Just Stan
by spazmoid
Summary: There was only one person who was Just Stan.


"Ha!" Stan cheered throwing his arms up in the air. "I win!" The noirette grinned triumphantly continuing to wave his arms in victory as he won the Guitar Hero match against Kyle. He must admit it was the fifth time they had played that night, but a win was a win even if it was one out of five. Stan poked Kyle tauntingly as he continued to grin over his victory. Stan also had to admit he was a bit of a very sore loser.

Kyle made a face, blowing some of his orange curls from his eyes. Whenever he came over Stan's house to hang out, Stan would always force him to take off his hat or else suffer the consequences of a chase which usually ended with both of the boys collapsing from laughter as one was tickled unmercifully. They only stopped laughing when Stan had to grab his inhaler from laughing too hard. "One out of five," Kyle said in retort sticking out his tongue at Stan. Their immature actions made it hard to believe they were both thirteen.

Stan's smile never wavered as he got up and waggled in some sort of weird dance that was a combination of the Cabbage Patch, Achy Breaky Heart, and the Tootsie Roll. "A win is a win," he said in a singsong voice ending his dance with a probably overly exaggerated wiggle of his hips.

Kyle blinked at the other boy biting his lip. The wiggle had seemed to seal the deal. He started to laugh unable to contain it any longer. He fell on the floor still laughing arms wrapped around his chest. "Dude... What... What the hell was that?" he asked when he finally was able to diminish his laughter to mere small chuckles under his breath.

Stan raised a brow struggling to contain his own laughter. He made his face serious, putting on a "seriously" confused expression. He tilted his head a bit to add to the affect. "Whataya mean?" he asked as if having absolutely no clue on what Kyle was talking about.

"That dance" was Kyle's simple reply. He raised his arms outstretched to Stan waiting for him to pull him up. Stan stared at him for a while still tickled by what just happened. He only began actually assisting the fallen boy when he received a glare and a small kick.

"I have no idea what you are talking about...," Stan hummed once the other was on his feet and standing again. He still held on to his confused look as he walked to his bed flopping on the comforters. He had let himself fall facedown ignoring Kyle's impatient glare. He knew the one thing that always dug under the redhead's skin was fake ignorance. He also knew he loved to see the other redfaced and pouting. It was sort of like another game, and he always seemed to win.

Kyle was standing at the end of the bed doing very well what Stan thought he would. He glared at the other wanting to practically pounce on him, so he could admit his actions. Stan was pretending to be oblivious just to irritate him, and Kyle knew it. He continued to glare, hazel eyes boring into the red shirt covering the other's back. He finally decided to lift a foot nudging Stan in his side. "Stan," he said tartly but without venom. "Yes you do."

Stan peeked his eye from his dark blue oblivion. His blue eyes looked a tone lighter. Kyle noticed they did that sometimes when he was being coy. He was still pretending to not understand and was still giving Kyle a blank look. "No I don't," he said his smile hidden by the sheets. He managed to erase it when he rolled over on his back to look up at Kyle. They fell into a silence as Kyle continued to glare and Stan continued to internally laugh. Their eyes met into a deadly staring contest. It was not long before Stan lost and a smile broke through his "confusion." A light laugh began to fall from his lips. "Ohhh," he said stretching out the word as if he first realised it, choking down the laugh to a smile. "You mean _that _dance?" he asked raising a brow.

"Yes," Kyle said a small smile on his own lips. He could never stay irritated with Stan for long. Maybe it was the way Stan never did fall into any stereotypes and was always just himself. That was just how Kyle liked him. He was Just Stan. Thinking this, he jumped on the bed next to the other falling in a sitting position. This way he was still staring down at the other. Stan had closed his eyes humming as if forgetting all about their conversation. Kyle knew Stan probably had, knowing his personality, and chuckled under his breath. He muffled it with his hand hoping Stan had not heard. "Just Stan," he muttered, unknowing that he had said the words out loud.

Stan cracked an eye open when Kyle said that. His eyes had returnt to their usual dark blue colour with flecks brown as he glanced over at the other teenager. "What?" he asked his voice a bit softened as he was pulled from his daydreams. Stan's face revealed real confusion this time. His brows furrowed in that manner of his when he was wondering.

Kyle blinked as if pulled from his own daydream. He shook his head. "I was thinking about homework again," he lied turning away from the other to straighten out some wrinkles on the bedspread. He could not look Stan in the eye when he lied. Stan could always read right through him.

Stan was silent for several moments. His brows furrowed at Kyle, his eyes questioning, but Kyle seemed oblivious and absorbed with the coverlets. He finally stopped focusing at the fidgeting boy to return to his humming. Stan heard a few more soft rustlings from the bedsheets before he felt Kyle rest on the bed next to him humming along with his tune. Stan smiled softly liking how Kyle always seemed able to keep up with the tunes he hummed.

They did this for who knows how long before Stan began to trade his daydreams for real ones drifting off. Kyle opened his eyes to slits as he heard the dying tune, the sound of a tired singer. He snorted at the thought, but Stan could not hear him. His eyes were still closed, and his once closed lips had parted as he breathed softly. He occasionally murmured underneath his breath, the words not having the voice that was stolen by sleep. Stan had always talked in his sleep. A fact the boy did not even know about himself. Kyle had never bothered to tell him because he thought it was just too amusing. It was like his own little secret.

Stan shifted in his sleep rolling to the side that faced Kyle. Kyle could almost hear the hushed words. Stan always had to be so close to someone when he slept. Kyle glanced down with an uncomfortable tilt of his head. He had wanted to get up, but it was of no use now. He did not want to risk waking up Stan. He sighed closing his eyes again. A nap would not hurt him.

Kyle woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He groaned softly rolling over gently enough to not disturb Stan. Stan had still been pressed against him, but he was quiet now. This meant for once he was not dreaming. He pushed aside a blanket that had been thrown over them, probably the work of Mrs. Marsh. He sighed opening the phone not bothering to check who it was. "Hello?" he said into the receiver holding back a tired yawn.

"Bubbe you said you would be home three hours ago," Kyle heard his mother say into the phone. He could hear the clatter of dishes in a sink. He had missed dinner yet again. His Sheila senses were tingling, and he just knew there was a lecture coming on. "How many times have I told you to be home on time? And you only do it when you're over that Marsh boy's house. I love that you have such a close friend, but you should probably not forget important things." The Sheila senses never lied.

"Like dinner?" Kyle said attempting to bite back the edges of sarcasm in the question. His attempts were in vain. He listened as his mother began talking about his tone of voice. He looked at the bed wishing he was curled back underneath the covers with Stan. He was never more comfortable than just laying beside the other. He caught himself staring pulling his eyes away face flushing slightly at a thoughts that had just crossed his mind. "I'll be home right away," he said quickly into the phone. He hung up not caring if his mother had still been talking. He could apologise when he got home.

Kyle quickly slipped on the familiar orange coat, his beloved hat, and a green scarf Stan had given him for Christmas one year. He walked down the stairs trying not to disturb anyone in the house. It was dark outside and well past seven o'clock. He could hear silverware in the dining room as he neared it. In some sort of skill he hardly even knew he had he slipped past the openway without being detected. If Stan's mom saw him she was sure to talk to him, and he was very pressed for time. He did not want to risk Stan waking up and discovering he was gone. He slipped in his shoes and out the door. It was not long before he was quickly shuffling down the street.

As Kyle walked he began to think. He wanted to know why his heart was beating so fast, and why he always liked to sleep over Stan's house. He had always excused his fondness for their sleepovers as just some sort of odd tradition between the two of them, but he was beginning to realise that it was a bit weird. Cartman had always said guys having sleepovers was pretty faggy anyway.

Kyle shook his head fiercely, frowning at himself. When did he begin to care what Cartman thought anyway? "Fatass," he muttered under his breath. Just thinking of his name irritated him. He waited until the familiar irritation faded replaced with the puzzling feeling of what was happening with him. He toyed with his scarf as he walked fixing out wrinkles that did not even exist. Perhaps it was just teenage hormones. He was at the age of puberty, and it was common for attractions to appear. Kyle paused. Did that mean he was attracted to Stan? If he was, did that make him gay?

Kyle pondered over it not knowing he had reached his own house and was standing on the porch step. He had never really been attracted to girls ever since his "girlfriend" Rebecca. He had always seen most of them as annoying anyway, and the ones he did talk to were merely his friends and nothing more. Kyle smoothed out another invisible wrinkle. Then again, Kyle had never been attracted to guys eithre. The only person he had ever found himself staring at was Stan.

Kyle scowled down at his boots the realisation dawning on him. He never had admitted it to himself before, but maybe once or twice he had caught himself staring as Stan did something. He had always came up with some excuse to get rid of the embarrassment of doing so. Now that it was "out in the open" he also had to admit he might like the way Stan grew his hair long, a trait stolen from his "Goth" phase. He also had to admit that maybe, despite the fact he thought all sports were really idiotic, he would show up to any game the other was in. The weather did not matter.

Kyle was really confused now. He bit his lip. If he was not gay nor straight, did that make him just "Stan-sexual"? He knew it was a silly term, but he really could never imagine himself liking anyone else. He tasted a bit of blood and licked his wounded lip ignoring the sting. If he was "Stan-sexual" what did that mean for Stan and his friendship? It was not like he could just go up to Stan and confess his feelings. He was not Romeo and dumb enough to just blurt out what he wanted to a stranger, much less his best friend for thirteen years. Kyle felt himself about to get really frustrated when he heard the door opening and glanced up quickly to curious brown eyes.

"What are you doing?" Ike asked cocking his head a bit. He thought just maybe his brother's schoolwork load had finally got to him. He really did look crazy just standing outside frowning at absolutely nothing at all. "Mum says you're supposed to be in the house."

Kyle blinked dragged from his own jumbled mind. "Yeah," he muttered shaking his head and pushing past Ike into the house. His mind was still muddled when he turnt to Ike. "Where is she?" he asked in almost a whisper not wanting her to know he was home just yet. He really needed to think right now or just sleep on it, and a lecture from his mother on his attitude and over-attachment to his friends was definitely not going to help him do that.

Kyle was thankful when Ike pointed down the hall to her workroom. That was far enough for him to have time to slip into his room. He could be out of his clothes and beneath the covers by the time she was even aware that he had went into the house. With his plan in mind, he slipped off his shoes and his coat and sprinted up the stairs on his toes. He hardly made a sound as he slid into his bedroom. It had taken him less than a minute to do that and even less time to wiggle out of his pants and shirt. He was curling under his covers just when he heard footsteps on the stairs. She was just in time.

By the time his mother had opened the door and peeked into Kyle's bedroom, he had already fallen asleep breathing softly under his blankets. She had been hoping to talk to him, but Kyle did need his sleep. She smiled reminiscing on days when she could tuck him in. "Night Bubbe," she said softly shutting the door. She walked down the stairs in the same fashion she had came up. Kyle continued to sleep, dreams of a certain person coarsing through his brain.

In fact, it was exactly one of these dreams that had sent him shooting up from his bed. He blinked wide-eyed raising up the covers before putting them back down and blushing deeply even if no one was there. He climbed out of bed and bundled up the covers, wary of the wet stain, and pushed them to the end of his bed. He definitely could not sleep now. He just paced for a while checking the clock and reading it as one thirty in the morning. He cursed his own mind rubbing his hands on his arms. He would probably have to shower now.

Kyle grabbed a clean pair of underwear along with some of his normal pyjamas as he walked down the stairs. He was still cursing in his mind. He would have to go to the synanogue later in the morning, and thankfully Stan was not Jewish. Maybe then he could get his mind off the other boy. Thoughts of Moses and the Torah would replace impure thoughts about his "super best friend." Kyle snorted at the term that had flitted through his mind, bare feet barely making a sound.

It took Kyle a while to find the switch to the dimly lit laundry room. He had to even put down the laundry as he felt around for the switch clumsily in the dark. When the room was finally lit, the light bright but still dim, he stuffed his soiled laundry into the machine along with the detergent. He stood there a while thinking over the dream. He had to stop himself from thinking any further when his mind began to ponder the details. This could not possibly be normal.

Kyle tried to ease his mind as he hurried to the bathroom. He reminded himself he had to shower and change clothes. He had nearly forgotten in his fluster. He turnt on the water, making sure the water was cold. It was something Kenny had told him once. He slipped into the water noting Kenny was right as he shivered in the water. Not only did the water get rid of his problem, but it also woke him up to full extent. He stepped out after a while wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabbed a much smaller one to dry off his hair. Once he was dry and reclothed he got up and walked quietly back to his room.

He sat on the edge of his bed picking up his phone. He had one message, his screen blinking to tell him so. He slid it open only to stare at it dumbly for a while when he saw it was from Stan. He hesitated before opening the message: "Y did u leave?"

Kyle smiled at the familiar textspeak. He hated it, but every single time he reminded Stan the other would just forget. He typed back quickly thinking to himself Stan probably was not awake anyway. "Mom wanted me home," he typed knowing that was a believable excuse. Stan was a bit afraid of his mother after all. He sat there a bit unprepared for the quick reply that came a couple minutes after he sent the message.

He read over it finding an odd feeling in his chest as he read the message. "Oh... I thought maybe we could have hung out a bit longer..." Kyle could picture Stan typing this right now, a small frown or something like that on his lips. He would probably be chewing on a strand of his hair. A habit Kyle found completely disgusting but had gotten used to. He wondered if Stan was still fully dressed or had changed into his pyjamas. Then again, Stan liked to sleep in nothing but a pair of boxers.

Kyle shook his head again. He could tell his mind might just go downhill from there. He wanted to curse again. "Well... We can always hang out today after I go to the synanogue and all that...," Kyle typed back. He leant back into his bed and pulled the covers back over him. He hesitated before texting what he thought of next. "We could go see a movie maybe if there is nothing else to do."

"K," Stan replied. Kyle could hardly contain the smile that lit up his face at the small word. It was not even a word but a letter. Still, the simple reply was one of those simplistic things Stan would say. Kyle glanced at his window looking at the dark sky. He began to wonder what Stan was doing, whether he was laying in his bed snuggled beneath the covers texting him in dark. Kyle felt himself seeming to drift off into a daydream before the vibration of the forgotten phone in his hand startled him away from his newfound infatuation. "Wut movie?"

Kyle reached up twirling a bit of his hair inbetween slender fingers as he thought. It was a habit he found embarrassingly girly and hoped no one would ever see him doing. He typed back slowly as he finished thinking.

Kyle had replied with a movie that was probably just another cheesy romance film. He really did not mean to choose a "chick flick," but he had named it from the top of his head. He now stared at his phone wondering if he had really sent that message. He almost wanted to hit himself in the head for even suggesting the idea. He was just about to type he was just kidding when he got another message. "K. :)"

Kyle stared at his phone again blinking. The giddy feeling in his chest was unfamiliar and strange. "This is definitely not right," he thought to himself sliding his phone shut as he buried his head under the covers. It was just like one of those stupid romance novels Stan and he would nab from Shelley's room to laugh over. The only difference was that the lovesick best friend was in love with his _guy _friend. To add more to the flame, it seemed to be a crush on his super best guy friend who happened to be completely into girls and in a relationship.

Kyle only unburied his head when he saw light in the windows. He talked himself into rolling out of bed and onto the floor. It did not take him long to get dressed or to shuffle down the stairs to his mother making breakfast along with Ike. He helped with the dishes while they ate, not feeling hungry himself. His stomach was upset along with his mind as he followed them out the door and to the only church in the entire town. Kyle sat in a pew his mind not on the lesson as he kept standing up late and sitting down early. He messed up all the songs they were supposed to sing and even almost forgot how to do prayer. When they left, his mother seemed about to say something, but Kyle saw Stan waiting on the other side of the street. The noirette gave a slight wave.

"Kyle." Kyle looked up his own hand frozen midwave. He stared at his mother his mind out of the clouds momentarily. His mother looked concerned, not angry, with him for once. "Bubbe, you know you can tell me if something's on your mind don't you?"

Kyle was unsure what to say. His eyes shifted from Stan back to his mother. He was going to miss the early showings for the movie. He licked the roof of his mouth finding it dry and nodded. His mother did not notice did she?

His mother did not seemed satisfied with this answer following his eyes to the other young teenager who stood on the other side of the street. She looked back down at her son sighing as she patted him on the shoulder. "We can talk about it later Kyle. Just make sure to call me if you decide to spend the night." It hardly took a moment for the words to be out of her mouth before Kyle was already going across the street. She thought she heard a quick "Yes ma'am," but she could not be sure. She smiled somewhat glad that her son was happy but unsure about this situation. She almost wanted to call him back, but he had already disappeared down the street with Stan.

"Did you bring me a change of clothes?" Kyle asked the boy walking beside him. His smile grew when Stan nodded pointing to the sports bag on his back. He had been getting uncomfortable in his suit and eager to change into a pair of jeans and a normal t-shirt. He would love it if they just let you wear casual clothes at the church. They walked the rest of the way in a comfortable silence they had gotten used to over the years when running out of things to share besides cold air and breaths.

It took them longer to reach the theatre because Kyle had to walk slower than usual. His formal shoes were always clumsy on slick surfaces. Stan paid for their tickets, a routine the two were used to. They switched between who bought tickets and who bought refreshments. Kyle was sure it was pretty even although. Just in case it was not, he always ended up buying them large fountain drinks and snacks. He already knew what Stan wanted. It really was routine.

They walked to the theatre slipping into some rows in the back. Last time they had sat in the front and ended up in a major popcorn battle resulting in both of them being suspended from the theatre for an entire month. Luckily, the seats did not seem to be as filled as they were that time. In fact, they were hardly filled at all. Kyle could see maybe two or one person near the front, but other than that the theatre was completely empty.

"No one's here," Stan said as if reading Kyle's thoughts. He had settled into his seat laying their snacks between them. The Sour Punch Kids were already half gone.

"Yeah," Kyle nodded reaching for the box and shaking it searching for some to pop in his mouth. The movie was starting just as corny as Kyle had suspected. It was not long before Stan and he began making fun of some of the lines. Both of them switched between pretending to be the swooning maiden or the amazing hero. They were both struggling not to be too loud and disturb the supposed couple up front, but it was getting hard as Stan put on a really good impression of the girl. "Oh I really cannot live without you! Please never leave me. I know we're just friends now, but we can be so much more," he said trying his best to say it seriously, but his smile and light blue eyes gave him away.

Kyle's own laugh faltered momentarily at the words before he smiled again before he continued the bad movie parody. "You really want to Elizabeth?" he asked think Elizabeth was the perfect name of a cheesy girl in a cheesy movie. He had grabbed Stan's hand as a spur of the moment idea, not even thinking it through. Their popcorn fell forgotten on the ground as both boys suddenly went quiet. They were looking directly at each other, eye to eye. Kyle felt that nervous feeling coming back, and it numbed his mind as he leant closer to Stan until their lips were barely brushing. His rational mind seemed to come back as he hesitated, but Stan seemed to have already decided. He closed the space between them. His hand tangled with Kyle's as he tugged him closer.

All the rational thoughts had left Kyle's head at the movements. His own body reacting in a way foreign to him as he followed Stan's physical directions pressing him into the seat. It was just pressing of the lips at first, but then one of them had parted their mouth and slipped his tongue in. Kyle was not sure whether it was him or Stan. Then there were tongues and teeth and hands as they fell into the seat. It was like a dream, and Kyle liked it. No. He loved it.

Kyle had always despised being wakened from a good dream. Stan had pushed him off staring at him with wide eyes. It was hard for Kyle to even register that expression. The movie was not even over yet, but Stan was already on his feet. He ran out as fast as his legs could carry him. Kyle watched with a mind still numb and not reacting to any of it. He took no notice of his disheveled appearance or the spilt popcorn as he watched Stan run out the door. The only thought that ran through his mind was that he had just screwed up big time.

Kyle had walked home in his still numb state. He was standing on his porch without realising again, not even noticing that he was crying until he tasted some of the saltwater on his lips. Ike was the first to notice him fortunately. His younger brother immediately pulled him inside and forced Kyle to go up the stairs before their mother could see them. Kyle hardly took notice of any of it. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. He was absolutely postive he had lost his best friend over a feeling he was still so unsure about. The same friend he had had sleepovers with every Thursday and sometimes Saturday night without fail. The same friend who listened to him cry over broken hearts due to trashy girlfriends and misconceptions of love. The same friend who had always been there for him in the end.

Ike had walked out the room telling Kyle he should get some sleep. The redhead wished he could, but his head hurt from crying. He knew his eyes were as red and puffy as his hair. He snuggled into the blankets. His tears had died down to sniffles as he curled into fetal position and let his phone rest beside him. He stared blankly at nothing as he waited to see if Stan would just text him. He wanted Stan to give him a chance to say he was sorry. Maybe if he apologised it would be okay and go back to how it used to have been.

After an hour, Kyle had abandoned the small hope he had of Stan calling or texting him. He pulled himself from bed and hoped he did not look as bad as he felt. He ventured down the stairs and saw his father in the dining room working on some of his paperwork. His dad was smart and did not get overly dramatic about small matters. "Dad?" he asked cringing at a slight crack in his voice. He hoped he could get some advice before his father noticed how hoarse he was.

His father looked up at him noticing the disheveled clothes and puffy eyes. To his son's relief he did not mention it. Instead he pushed aside his papers and cleared a spot for Kyle to sit.

Kyle hesitated before taking the silent offer sitting beside his father not meeting his eyes. His fingers drummed along the table in a nervous fidget that seemed abnormal for him. "Dad," he started but stopped because his mouth felt dry. He licked the roof of his mouth before continuing. "What do you do when you mess up on something really important? Like a case," he said adding the last part a little quickly. His hand had reached up and unknowingly griped at a strand of his hair, twirling and tugging the curl between his fingers. "Like you accidentally forgot to tell the prosecutor about key evidence or maybe you just said something in court that you never should have said at all."

Kyle's father stared at his son wondering momentarily what he was thinking before looking away grabbing some of his papers to work on again. "I would do my best to fix it," he said picking up his pen. He might have had a feeling that something had happened with Kyle and Stan. They probably had gotten into a fight. "I would do whatever I could to straighten things out with the prosecutor and make a compromise. I would also apologise for saying something wrong in open court, praying that I do not get a mistrial," he said a small smile on his lips as he talked.

Kyle glanced over at him smiling almost invisibly himself. "Thanks Dad," he said more thankful than his father would ever know. "I'm going to bed early tonight. Tell Mom not to worry," he said not taking a glance back in the kitchen's direction as he trudged back up the stairs. Despite the fact his father had indeed cheered him up, he had also told him what he should do. Kyle was already dreading school on Monday.

Stan had not been waiting for him at the bus stop as usual. Kyle had a feeling he had caught a ride with Shelley leaving Kyle to ride the bus alone. The heavy rock in his stomach had been there since Saturday. Sunday had been torturous as he still did not receive any calls from Stan. His mother had to force him to eat a small bit of food before he suffered a diabetic attack. The rock grew when he gave a slight wave to Stan in the hallway but did not receive one in return. Instead, Stan had avoided his eyes and walked in the direction away from Kyle. Kyle had bit his lip and tried not to get too upset over it.

The rest of the school day seemed to pass in that same fashion. Stan was definitely avoiding him. During any class they had together, Stan would sit on the other side of the room. It was weird having to partner with Craig in Science because his usual partner had went to hang out with someone else. By lunchtime he was hoping this was finally the chance he would get to talk to him, but the seat he had next to Stan already had someone else in it. Kyle had ended up walking and sitting next to Butters and Tweek at their table. Tweek was as tiring as his mother as he fretted over Kyle eating some of the food. Kyle was too frustrated to argue and bit into a hardened roll. He did not even bother to raise his head up to see what Stan was doing at the other table.

Kyle had went through the other half of his classes uncaring and numb. He breezed through any tests he had in order to have the opportunity to lay his head down and do nothing. By the end of the day he was wiped out from trying in vain to find Stan through the hallways. His mind kept wandering, still hoping a glance for a flash of red and blue amid the heads of kids crowding out ready to be over with their last class and on their way home. He was so out of it he did not notice the much taller kids he ran into. He glanced up nervously taking in these were the same kids who always seemed to look for any chance to beat on some kid they saw as a weaker opponent. It did not help they thought of him "faggy nerd" eithre. "Sorry," he muttered hoping they would accept his apology and move on.

Kyle was on the floor in minutes as they pushed him down knocking his books out of his hands. He cried out hoping that his English paper had not been ruined. He bit back tears thinking today was definitely just not one of his best days. He was already frustrated with himself, and the kids in front of him were not helping. He clenched his fists and did not even know he had stood up and hit the kid who had pushed him. He only noticed he was punching when he was being restrained by the guidance counsellor.

Kyle ignored the staring eyes as he was taken to the guidance counselor's office. "Mr. Tucker, you can go ahead and leave now," she said as she sat Kyle down in a different chair while looking over at a kid with black hair and a blue chullo. He looked normal except Kyle noticed cigarette burns on his arm from a slightly raised sleeve. Craig caught him staring scowling at him before giving him the middle finger and getting up to leave without even saying goodbye. Kyle did notice him pull down the sleeve although.

The guidance counsellor sighed sitting down in a chair behind the desk. "Kyle," she said looking directly at him. Kyle could feel her staring at him, but all he could do was stare at his feet hoping the counsellor did not notice how upset he was. He wanted to go back home. "You're an Honour Roll student."

"I know!" Kyle could not hold his snappish attitude back any longer. He was tired and should have never came to school. If he wanted to be miserable he could have stayed and listened to lectures from his mother. He was glaring angrily at the counsellor before looking back down at his feet drawing his legs up to his chest. "Sorry," he mumbled hoping his knees were blocking his face. His face hurt. He wanted to cry again.

"It's fine Kyle," she said with a small smile she knew the troubled boy could not see. She let him calm down before speaking again. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she asked as she continued to watch his movements from the corners of her eyes. She pretended to be busy, shuffling through her papers and pens.

Kyle did not pull his head up from his knees as he listened to her talk. He went rigid at the question shaking his head in a slight, quick movement. "I want to go home," he whispered quietly. His voice was hoarse again, and Kyle knew if the teacher did not just let him leave he would end up telling her everything. His day seemed to brighten a bit as she took the hint standing up and telling him he could go. Kyle could not get up fast enough jumping out of the chair and grabbing his stuff from beside the counsellor's door. The halls were empty now. Everyone had gone to class.

Kyle was out the doors and running down the sidewalk home as fast as his legs could carry him. He was thankful for working parents who did not notice their son as he slammed the door to his room locking himself inside. His phone rang, but he shut it off. He did not want to deal with people right now. What do you do when you have a problem and the only one you turn to his your best friend? What do you do when the best friend _is _the problem?

The question frustrated Kyle as he picked up a random book and hurled it at his wall. The book made a loud and satisfying thwacking sound as he successfully managed to peel off some of the paint. He drew his knees to his chest again burying his face in his knees. Kyle wished he could come up with better words, but the only thing he could think was "This sucks." He ended up voicing this opinion as he hurled another book. This one hit the open window resulting in a cry out that was eithre a person or a very large dog.

Kyle scrambled up running over to his window opening it even further. He pushed his head and upper body out. "I'm sorry!" he shouted looking at the ground before looking at the branches of the tree. A flushed boy in a blue hat with a red poofball hung limply from a thick branch. Kyle could only blink speechless. Stan was the last person he suspected to be climbing the tree to his window.

"It's okay," Stan said with a weak grin. "My fault for attempting to climb a frozen tree," he grunted lamely as he managed to pull himself up. Kyle reached out to help him but leant out too far. He soon toppled out the window and through certain events they both ended up falling until they were on the ground. Snow was a lie. It was not very soft when they landed.

Kyle groaned pushing himself up to look over at Stan. The noirette was completely still with his eyes closed. "Stan?" he asked softly before poking the other. He received no response. He began to worry poking him a bit harder. "Stan?" he asked again scooting up closer. For a second he thought maybe Stan was just faking, and he decided to test it. He waited a while before fingers reached up tickling that spot behind Stan's ear. This resulted in a snort and a few laughs coming from the other as his eyes flew open and he flushed furiously. Kyle grinned but was irritated Stan had tried to trick him. For a moment he completely forgot about his confusion and frustration as he focused on tickling the noirette until he was begging for mercy.

It did not take too long as both boys were soon back collapsed against the snow. They were panting and laughing lightly both with smiles on their faces. "Hey Kyle?" Kyle looked over at the mentioning of his name and looked over at Stan who was talking with his eyes closed against the snow. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk to you today. I was just a bit confused," he said quietly eyes opening to glance over at him.

Kyle swallowed a lump in his throat nodding. "I haven't been having the best day eithre," he agreed with a small smile. He had nearly lost his best friend and probably gotten detention for a week, suspension at the most. They fell into silence, Stan moving his arms and legs to form a snow angel on the ground. Kyle watched him from the corners of his eye smiling before doing the same. Stan had kept going even when Kyle had stopped.

"I broke up with Wendy," Stan finally said his arms and legs still working. It was as if he was trying to really make his angel fly. "For good," he added quietly. He stopped making his snow angel looking over at Kyle smiling softly but not looking him in the eye. "I just need to work some things out with myself and how I feel about...," Stan stopped standing up not even noticing Kyle's eyes staring at him. Stan whirled around powder lacing Kyle's orange jacket. "I just need a while to get a grip okay?" he said begging Kyle to forgive him for not making up his mind. Kyle could see he looked absolutely miserable, and here he had been thinking as if it was only him who had lost his best friend.

Kyle smiled trying to cheer him up. "It's fine Stan," he said standing up and dusting himself off. "I'm not just going to stop being your 'super best friend' over something like that," he said nudging the other. He was happy when this resulted in a small smile from Stan's lips.

"Thanks Kyle," Stan said his smile growing slightly when he said the words.

Kyle grinned secretly more than happy that Stan and he were friends again. He had left out his last reason for promising never to abandon the other besides the "best friend code." Stan's smile and words that day had erased almost all of the confusion from his mind. He knew it then that he wanted to kiss Stan again, and he was willing to wait. After all there was only one person who was always just like this.

There was only one person who was Just Stan.


End file.
